


Whitesmoke

by Alexandria (heartfullofelves)



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Dark, Gen, Masturbation, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 13:27:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6856894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartfullofelves/pseuds/Alexandria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Éowyn, alone in her bower, dreams of death and glory whilst touching herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whitesmoke

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [merryismaytime2016](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/merryismaytime2016) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Éowyn, alone in her bower, dreams of death and glory whilst touching herself.

The White Lady of Rohan entered her bedchamber, where she disrobed and slipped into bed, under the bulky furs. Night had fallen but the moon was full, casting a pale light over the room. Éowyn gazed at the light source, this beautiful sphere in the night sky. Her subsequent sigh held the weight of all her dark thoughts, the frustrations and desires that had occupied her mind of late. Her eyes slid closed as they consumed her.

Knowing how to alleviate them in order to give herself some peace of mind, even if only for a moment, she cupped her breast and massaged it. Her head fell back to face the moonlight, which she saw through her eyelids. She squeezed her breast hard. One day, this pain would end. Soon, it would all be over, she promised herself. Soon.

Her hand drifted across her stomach, down between her thighs. Yes, she thought as she applied a gentle touch, her suffering would come to an end and she would find glory in death at the same time. She would find her freedom.

She hastened her pace. She would fight in battle, as a true shieldmaiden would, and defeat her foe with strength of arm and will. Her sword would slash through the air as she fought, and she would be a sight to behold, the blood of her enemies on her face and her hair wild behind her.

Éowyn was panting now. She used her other hand to toss the furs off her upper body, then she rubbed harder, releasing a quiet moan into the room. Would that be the sound she made as she died? Would her death be quiet? Or would she go down in a blaze of glory, observed by others of her people, who would remember her valour in the years to come? The latter, she swore. It would be the latter.

Her physical release arrived in time with a vision of her death, clean and swift on the battlefield. She did not want it any other way. Afterwards, she lay there, listening to her own breathing and gazing at the moonlight as she came down from her high. When she began to shiver, she pulled the furs back over her shoulders and settled down to sleep. Having exorcised the dark thoughts, it was an easy task.

For the first time in weeks, she did not dream.

**Author's Note:**

> Whitesmoke is a colour (#F5F5F5), a variation of white. I wanted to use colour symbolism in this fic as a contrast between Éowyn’s purity and her more “dirty” acts.
> 
> LOTR/The Hobbit was my first proper fandom, back in 2013, but this is the first time I’ve written for it. I miss it; I really need to watch the films again.


End file.
